Under the Stars

Under the Stars

By like a falling star

I love watching the stars.

Those bright white diamonds twinkling in the dark blue sky, not quite polished as they are radiant; tracing patterns in their positions, wondering if they know the names we've given them; the ironic knowledge of being the only person wide awake and dreaming while everyone else is in dreamless slumber; Astronomy lessons at midnight, such an odd yet appropriate hour, don't you think?; knowing that 'somewhere out there, beneath the pale moonlight, someone's thinking of me, and loving me tonight', and that even though the song practically maims with its utter sugary sweetness, it makes me smile anyhow - I love all of it, the openness and the simplicity and the mystery and the complexity of it all.

Most of all, I love that it was written in the stars. I love that that was where it all began.

*

I'd sneak up to the Astronomy Tower each time I had trouble sleeping, knowing that Professor Sinistra wouldn't mind; she'd caught me star-gazing a few times, and soon welcomed me to it. She knew the stars, too, and she understood.

It was my fifth year in Hogwarts, and Harry's sixth. By then I'd discovered the stars and the night and what I could read in them.

One night, as I unclipped my cloak and was spreading it on the floor, I heard someone counting. How... strange.

And it wasn't Professor Sinistra.

It was Harry, and he seemed oblivious that there was anyone around at all.

The first thought that leapt to my mind was that I could have been You-Know-Who, or a Death-Eater; I could have stunned him and then killed him without him even realizing it.

"Counting the stars?"

In a flash he'd jumped to his feet, whipped out his wand and had it pointed at my chest.

Turns out I didn't have to worry about his safety after all. He could have taken care of himself fine, thank you very much.

"... Ginny." The relief in his voice was audible. "I thought you were... I couldn't sleep."

"Same here." I settled for listening to him and watching him; speaking wasn't necessary.

"Muggles count sheep to sleep."

"And Wizards count stars?"

He shrugged. "They're nice to look at."

"Yes, they are."

*

By Harry's seventh year, we'd met in the Astronomy Tower countless times.

We'd grown into a comfortable relationship. More than brother-sister, more than teammates, more than friends, and though I believe that Ron suspected and Hermione knew, they could hardly say a word for, in front of them, we scarcely spoke to each other directly.

The day before we left to join the war in different parts of the world, we sat there under the stars for what seemed like an eternity, which in truth was really only a couple of minutes. We were supposed to be getting rest, but I suppose he must have wanted to watch the stars instead, which was perfectly fine with me.

"Don't you ever wonder?" I asked.

Harry turned to me, his eyebrows raised in question.

What happens after, I wanted to say. What happens after You-Know-Who is defeated, after good has vanquished evil, after all that we know is going to happen happens? What then? But I didn't say.

Still he knew.

"Don't we all?" He replied noncommittally. But I needed to know, and he answered my question. "I'm not going anywhere, Gin. I'm not leaving, not for anything, not without... you."

He wasn't going to be stupidly heroic. He wasn't going to die. I understood, and I was satisfied. I lay on my back and spread my hands. "They're beautiful, aren't they?" I meant the stars.

"Yes, they are."

*

We had settled into a comfortable silence, though I remained painfully aware of his every movement.

Then Harry turned to me, his eyes infused with a strange, determined light I had never seen in them before. "We should be getting back now, shouldn't we?"

I nodded reluctantly, resignedly.

He stood up, his robes somewhat rumpled, and held out a hand to help me up.

I smiled up at him and placed my hand in his warm ones.

Harry blushed, very slightly, and together we made our way back to the Gryffindor tower, hand in hand, under the stars.

*

That happened exactly a week ago. I'm back, he isn't.

But I'm not afraid.

I know I'll never lose him. He promised, and he meant it.

The stars are up there, smiling down on us, Harry and I. It sometimes seems as if they're celebrating our love - not so much celebrating as appreciating, the way one appreciates a rightness so fitting - just by being. They're looking after us, and they won't let us down, because they've been there forever.

I love the stars.

But I love him more.

*

Somewhere out there

Beneath the pale moonlight

Someone's thinking of me

And loving me tonight

*